


Remember Me

by ThatWeirdSkittle



Series: Me, or Series of Rather Fortunate Events [2]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Bar Fight, F/M, Sexual Content, Smut, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 01:19:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWeirdSkittle/pseuds/ThatWeirdSkittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or "The Evening Prior." Prequel to Give in To Me or The Morning After, in which Tom and Clarissa meet at the bar and head home together.</p><p> </p><p>"'Care for a drink, darling?” He offered, ever the gentleman. Clarissa ignored the question and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss.<br/>“Care for a fuck, darling?” She purred into his ear teasingly, her tongue darting out to tease his earlobe and he shivered, sliding his hands down her body to grip her hips"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember Me

**Author's Note:**

> The whole Bar Fight bit was to satisfy a prompt in which Tom was, for whatever reason, kicked in the balls and the OFC soothes his pain.

Cheap neon lights burned with a dull buzz, shining in such a way that you couldn’t quite make out the features of the girl you were buying drinks for-- not that that kept anyone from doing it anyway. The dance floor was a mass of gyrating bodies. The idea of personal space was cast out and drunk adults sinned in public the way you could only get away with on a dance floor under the influence of alcohol. The speakers pumped a beat that would set the tempo for the headache Clarissa would have in the morning, but she didn’t care. Her philosophy was to get drunk now, and deal with the suffering later. She leaned heavily against the counter, too drunk to stand straight, but too excited to sit down. 

She threw back another shot and swayed her hips to the beat. Her eyes scanned the bar, searching for her next victim. Another shot was slid her way and the bartender leaned towards her.  
“That one’s from the ginger with the sunglasses. You’re making me some good tips tonight, love.” He told her, and she laughed. She looked up and the man responsible for the drink pulled his sunglasses down and winked at her. Found him.  
“Well, sorry if they stop coming in, honey. I think I’ve found my ride home.” This shot was downed faster than the last, and she was sauntering over to the man who bought her drink.  
She was heavily intoxicated. Drunk, wasted -- plastered, even. Nights of practice made her steady on her feet, but the alcohol in her blood made her painfully aware of her own libido. On her back would certainly be preferable to on her feet at this point, and this man might be the perfect candidate to get her that way. Up close, the stubble on his chin was visible. She briefly thought that she’d love to feel that rubbing against her thighs, but that would have to wait.

“Dance with me?” She asked, taking his hand. He only nodded and followed her out onto the dance floor, where she plastered herself to him, starting with a sinful grind that immediately reminded him that he was a man.  
“You’re drunk, darling.” He said to her, putting a bit of distance between them as they danced. She laughed at him and pulled him close again, wrapping her arms around his neck.  
“And you aren’t. That’s why you’re the responsible one.” He gave into her and let her lead their dance. She moved fluidly with the beat, never allowing more than an inch of space between them.  
“Are we dancing or fucking?” He asked as she grinded her hips into his again, teasing him through the fabric of his clothes.  
“Dancing. The fucking comes later.” She said. Her laugh rose from her throat easily, but faded when she was pulled away from him by another man.  
“You’ll have more fun with me, babe.” The man said and Clarissa pushed away from him, scoffing.  
“As if.”  
The man grabbed her wrist and yanked her back towards him, snarling menacingly at her.  
“Hey! Get off me, Creep!” She pulled herself away again and stepped towards Tom, only to be dragged away a third time.

That was when Tom shut off the brain in his pants and let his instincts take over. He stepped between Clarissa and the man and glared, prying the other man’s fingers from the girl’s wrist.  
Clarissa watched as her best friend swung once, then twice, and then took a hit to the stomach before knocking the man to the ground (quite unlike the gentleman he usually was). The fight seemed over until the man took a cheap shot and kicked from the ground, hitting Tom directly in his weak spot. He sunk to the ground in pain, and Clarissa got pissed.

“Hey, asshole. The fuck’s your problem? Ever heard of a clean fight?”  
The man started to stand, but Clarissa didn’t give him that chance. She stepped towards him and delivered the hardest kick she could to his groin. When he was down again, she ground the heel of her stiletto into his scrotum. She helped Tom off the ground and the sea of onlookers parted to let them leave.  
Tom groaned as he fell into the driver’s seat of his car.  
“I understand that he kicked me first, but did you have to do all that? I’ve got sympathy pains too, now.” Clarissa laughed as she fell into the seat next to him.  
“He would’ve kicked you again if I hadn’t intervened. Should’ve been my fight anyway. He was hitting on me, not you.”  
“Yes, I know, but I will always fight for you. Regardless, you damn near popped the man’s bollocks.” Clarissa laughed as they drove off, throwing a glance back at the club to see if the man had tried to follow them. He hadn’t.

As they drove, she caught Tom’s reflection in the mirror and saw him wincing.  
“Does it still hurt that badly, darling?” He nodded his response and Clarissa pouted trying to think of how to help him.  
Tom glanced over in time to see the idea cross her face all at one time. It started with the left corner of her mouth turning up, and then she was smirking and she had a mischievous glint in her eye. He swallowed nervously and turned his eyes back to the road.  
“Want me to kiss it better, darling?” Before he could respond, she was crawling across the seat and the view down her shirt was enough to bring his member back to attention. She had his button open and his zipper undone before he could voice his concern, and his cock was in her mouth by the time he finished his sentence.

“Clarissa, I’m trying to drive!” He protested, fighting the urge to close his eyes. He hissed in pleasure as she swirled her tongue along the bottom of his cock, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.  
“So keep your eyes on the road.”  
Tom was sober enough to know that this was a bad idea, but Clarissa was drunk enough not to care.  
Tom found it difficult to focus on anything other than the wet heat surrounding his cock, but he found that the next thing to focus on was the writhing tongue under his cock. He clenched his thighs and blinked, suddenly glad that his flat was so close.  
“Clarissa!” he hissed as she gently drug her teeth along his length. She hummed innocently, an unspoken question that ripped a groan from his throat. Black overtook his vision for a moment and he blinked rapidly to regain his sight.  
“Clarissa, we’re nearly to my flat, this can wait.” He said urgently, swallowing thickly as her hand began to pump the base of his cock and her tongue passed deliberately over its head. His words did nothing to discourage her, instead prompting her to speed up the process in the hopes of bringing him over before they reached his flat.

Tom tightened his grip on the steering wheel as Clarissa began to suck and lick and stroke his cock. He could no longer discern where her mouth ended and her hands began, but he also couldn’t care because it was all pleasure and lights were beginning to burn behind his eyes. He removed one hand from the wheel and slid it into Clarissa’s hair, gripping a handful of the crimson strands. Clarissa moaned as he tugged at the strands gently, the vibrations pushing Tom over the edge. His seed spilled into her mouth and she made a sound of approval, making a show of swallowing. By the time they were at his flat, it was almost as if nothing had happened, but Tom’s state of mind was significantly changed.

He stumbled up the stairs to his flat, his hands shaking as he tried to unlock the door. When it was open, he nearly fell inside and he pulled Clarissa with him, locking the door behind them and tossing the keys onto his coffee table.  
“Care for a drink, darling?” He offered, ever the gentleman. Clarissa ignored the question and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss.

“Care for a fuck, darling?” She purred into his ear teasingly, her tongue darting out to tease his earlobe and he shivered, sliding his hands down her body to grip her hips.  
“You’re drunk, Clarissa, is this really what you want?” She didn’t answer verbally, but pushed him back onto his couch and then stood on his coffee table. Tom watched, intrigued as she bent down and removed both shoes, dropping them to the side. It wasn’t until she began swaying her hips that he realized where this was going and his breath caught in his throat.  
“Pity there’s no music.” She purred as she turned her back to him, unzipping her dress slowly. Tom swallowed, his throat dry, and said nothing. She slipped out of the dress easily, letting it drop to the table where it pooled around her feet. She stepped out of it and kicked it out of her way, turning so that Tom could admire her lacy underwear.  
“Clarissa.” He whispered, his mind unable to form any other word. She smirked at him and turned in a full circle, hips swaying seductively the entire way. When she was facing him again, she reached behind her and suddenly her bra straps were slipping from her shoulders slowly, slowly, until that too fell and her breasts were bare for him. She stepped off the table easily and approached Tom, hips swaying, swaying... He groaned as she straddled him and tipped his head back, her lips covering his own sensually, moving slowly as if this, too, was part of her dance. Her tongue entered his parted lips and he found himself intoxicated by her taste. His hands rose to pull her torso to him so that he could feel more of her, but she pulled away, shaking her head. She pulled him forward with his tie and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, raking her nails across the exposed skin of his chest. He shivered and let her do as she wished, his body malleable to her touch. She removed his shirt, but left the tie on, and then her hands were at the button of his pants, one sliding lower to stroke him through the fabric. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, leaning back into the couch.  
“Clarissa.” He groaned. She pulled off his shoes, socks and pants and then returned to the coffee table. Tom watched as she slid her hands down her body, cupping her breasts momentarily and then sliding further down to hook two fingers into her underwear. She turned to the side and bent over and slowly slid them down her legs, tossing them to the side like the rest of her clothes. With the final obstruction gone, she stepped down from the table and stood between Tom’s legs. And then she giggled, and Tom knew he was done for.  
“What do you think?” She asked, gesturing to her naked body. Tom took in her full naked form and then looked down at the bulge in his boxers.  
“I’m not doing much thinking right now.” He admitted. She laughed again and Tom admired the way her breasts bounced freely. She leaned forward, placing a hand on the couch on either side of his head and she whispered into his ear.  
“Let me help you then... Take me.” Tom groaned again, throwing his head back and then he pulled the girl all the way into his lap, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. His hands roamed her body, memorizing the feeling of her silky skin beneath his fingertips. Their mouths found each other again and they were tangled together in passion. The semblance of thought Tom managed to keep started to fade, and he only barely managed to murmur a forced, “The bed, Clarissa.” Before carrying her to his room and throwing her onto his bed. He climbed over her and took a deep breath, taking in her entire form.

She was beautiful and ready for him, the heavy smell of her arousal prompting a growl from him. He aligned himself with her entrance and leaned his forehead against hers.  
“You’re sure?” He asked a final time and she glared.  
“Tom Hiddleston, if you don’t fuck me right now I swear I- ah!” He slammed into her before she could complete her sentence and she threw her head back, the sensation of being filled taking her by surprise. Tom groaned when he was fully sheathed inside of her and he was still for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size.  
“Clarissa.” He said, his voice low and needy, “Look at me.” She reopened her eyes and found herself staring into Tom’s, making her gasp at the intensity of his gaze.  
“I want you to remember this in the morning, Clarissa. Don’t. Look. Away.” She wasn’t sure if it was the tone of his voice or the intensity of his gaze, but she found that she could not disobey him. He showed her through the power of his thrusts that his last question was at the very breaking point of his restraint and now that he had her under him any consideration was gone. As they fell into a rhythm, Clarissa had to fight to keep her eyes open. The pleasure of being filled by him and falling prey to his passion was nearly too much, but she managed to keep eye contact with him until he pushed her over the age and she came, screaming his name.  
He followed soon after, a cry of his own filling the air. He kissed her deeply and fell to her side, pulling her so that her head was on his chest.

Clarissa fell asleep quickly, but Tom did not. He stared at the ceiling for hours, stroking Clarissa’s hair and breathing in her scent. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but he could only whisper to her pleadingly in her sleep.  
“Remember me.”


End file.
